


Nobody Stops For Strangers

by hstevens5



Category: Supernatural, The Hitcher (2007)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Spoilers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22425262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hstevens5/pseuds/hstevens5
Summary: On the way to a hunt, Dean and Y/N run into a stranger on the side of the road. They learn the hard way why nobody stops for strangers.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 14





	Nobody Stops For Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! In October honor of Spooky Scary month (I.e. Halloween) I wanted to do some Supernatural one-shots ala horror movie plots, and since I was currently watching The Hitcher remake, first up is The Hitcher! 
> 
> But also, please note that I changed the plot a bit, because some of it would not make sense if the main character was Dean Winchester. Just saying…Also this isn’t the whole movie, because I wanted to end with some fluff. Do you want a part II? Let me know! 
> 
> Spoilers for The Hitcher (2007) below  
> Warnings: horror thematic elements, swearing, a little fluff at the end because I think it was needed… A little angst at the end as well

It was pouring outside as the Impala roared down the deserted road.

You were staring out the passenger side window into the blackness, watching the water slip down the fogged glass, as you thought about how long you guys had been driving for. _Three, four hours?_ It was near impossible to see outside, but Dean insisted on driving further, not wanting to spend prime hunting hours in the car. Or that was his excuse at least.

You guys were on your way to Houston on the scent of a pack of werewolves Sam dug up while researching. You offered to tag him out so that he could rest awhile and he gladly accepted— And you couldn’t help but notice the slight grin on Dean’s face when you offered to go with, and the bounce in his step when he packed up the Impala. You always had a mini crush on the hunter, but never thought the feelings would be reciprocated. _Maybe he cared about you more than he let on?_ The thought made you smile and you glanced to the left at the hunter as he hummed wordlessly to a song that was clearly in his own head, because the radio was off. His face was calm and he looked almost carefree, his jaw not permanently set. You studied his features silently, wanting to memorize how serene he looked in this moment. He stopped and saw you looking at him, even though you whipped your head back toward the window when he moved his head, embarrassed that he caught you.

“What?” He mused, keeping one eye on the road while looking at you questionably. “Do I have something on my face?” His eyes squinted at the corners in a confused expression and you couldn’t help but smile.

“No. Nothing,” you smirked, shrugging at him and returning back to draw lines on the window in the fog.

“Those are gonna leave marks you know.” He said with a chuckle, raising his eyes at you in a faux-warning while laying one arm across the bench seat, tightening his grip on the steering wheel with his other. His hand brushed across your shoulder making you shiver, and you leaned closer to him. He watched you draw a tiny heart in the corner of the window, coloring it in slowly and carefully, just to spite him, winking at his upturned face. He held your gaze for a few more seconds and you saw a flash of light from the corner of your eye making you jump.

“Look out!” You cried, as Dean threw both hands back on the steering wheel, expertly avoiding the man standing in the rain in the middle of the road, the thumb on his right hand pointing South. The Impala’s breaks groaned and seized, the tires slipping on the wet cement, sending the car spinning in a circle before jerking to a stop. There was a brief moment where there was a blinding ringing in your head, but then the only sound you heard was the pounding of the rain on the window and your ragged breathing. Your head had bounced against the door frame when the car went into the turn and you could feel warm blood trickle down the side of your face and down your chin. The car had spun so you were face to face with the shadowed stranger who hadn’t moved, the headlights illuminating his finger, which continued to point South, and mouth turned up in an eery smile.

“Y/N,” Dean said roughly, pulling your face toward him, so he could see the cut closer. “Here,” he continued, shrugging out of his flannel shirt, and handing it to you. “Hold this to your head.” He reached behind the front seat to the floor and groaned when he didn’t find the first-aid kit he was looking for.

“Dean, we have to make sure he’s okay.” You stated quietly, realizing suddenly how tired you felt, your eyelids beginning to droop. He shook his head roughly, looking back at you as you began to slump against the cool window, messing up your heart from earlier.

“You might have a concussion, sweetheart, we have to get out of here.” The Impala had stalled as it went into the turn and Dean pumped hard on the breaks, trying to get her started. The engine sputtered and moaned as he cranked on the key in the ignition.

“Come on, Baby,” he murmured to himself, keeping an eye on the stranger, who still hadn’t moved. “Come on!” Finally, the car roared to life and Dean swung the wheel pushing the car to head back South toward the nearest town.

“We can’t just leave him, Dean.” You questioned as the Impala gained traction on the wet ground.

“Someone else will stop.” He grunted, eyes forward and serious, focused on the mission in front of him. You shook your head. _Nobody stops for strangers_. You glanced back as the car flew forward. The man raised one hand slowly toward the sky and moved it back and forth almost as if to say he would see us later. The sight made you shiver, and Dean placed his arm around your shoulder, pulling you toward him. “Don’t fall asleep, okay?” You nodded as he watched you carefully, his hand worriedly moving firm circles in your back.

“There’s a town up here about five miles and we’ll get you checked out.” He stated more to himself than anything. Your head had stopped bleeding, and you weren't as dizzy, as the gas station came into view ahead of the car. You always hated how gas stations looked at night, the bright lights reflecting across the wet parking lot. You shivered again and curled into Dean’s side, his arm tightening around your shoulders as he steered us toward the building. Dean put the Impala in park and switched on the overhead light, pulling your face toward him again. You groaned and pulled away from him, the light hurting your eyes. You squeezed them shut and huffed out a breath.

“Stop.” He warned, pulling you gentler this time to look at the cut down the side of your head, and into your eyes. You passed all of his tests and he kissed you gently on the forehead, his lips lingering just a moment longer, before exiting the car to find some bandaids in the rundown gas station. You watched him walk through the front door and turn to the left, before disappearing behind the stacks of snack foods. You figured after all of the commotion, Dean would be too wired to sleep and that he would want to keep driving, so dragging yourself and his flannel into the back seat, you decided to lay there for the rest of the trip. It wasn’t until you heard a door close, and two voices that you lifted your head silently from the back seat.

“Look man,” Dean was saying, and you could see how tense he was from the way he was clenching his jaw, the muscles working hard to keep his features in check. You couldn’t see the other man clearly, but he was staring forward and sitting comfortably in the front seat, like he had been there the whole time. He looked young, about Dean’s age, and he was dressed casually in a long jacket and collared shirt.

“We would have stopped, but my friend was hurt. I needed to make sure that she was okay.” Dean trailed off, glancing back in the rearview mirror.

“Then the least you could do is give me a ride to the motel?” The man asked, a note of curiosity in his voice. He sounded like a normal man and you weren’t sure how ‘at the ready’ you were supposed to be, but you knew that you didn’t know this man, and you and Dean did leave him out in the rain after almost running him down. Dean seemed to feel the same way, never unclenching his jaw as the man waited calmly for his answer.

“Look,” Dean began again, glancing back at me.

Suddenly, the man jerked around, throwing his arms around the bench seat and grabbing you roughly by the wrists, yanking you toward him. He held you close, a muscled arm snaking around your neck making it hard to breath. You didn’t have much time to react, but a stray tear drifted down your cheek as you gulped in air, panicked eyes searching Dean’s face. The man thumbed the tear silently, making you cringe back from his touch. Dean turned toward you and the man, his hands in the air. The man withdrew a large knife from his pocket and flicked it open, holding it casually to the tender skin below your eye. You yelped as he drew blood, and Dean growled angrily.

“Enough!” Dean yelled, speaking directly to the mystery man. “Do. not. hurt her.” He finished through clenched teeth. You felt the knife dig a bit deeper, and tears streamed down your face. You realized you were scared, and that only helped fuel your anger and emotional response to the situation.

“So,” the man started almost cheerfully, the tone of his voice high pitched and eager. “Being that we are at a bit of an impasse, perhaps we could all drive to the hotel and continue this conversation?” He finished his sentence with a “Hmm?” and pressed the knife further into your cheek bone, drawing a line of blood. You whimpered quietly, and Dean looked at you, weighing the options, before revving Baby to life and backing out of his parking space. The hotel was a few miles up the road and the stranger didn’t speak the whole time, but continued to hold on to you aggressively. You were sure to have bruising around your neck, and the cut on your cheek continued to bleed, though he removed the knife from pressing down on it. Dean glanced at you quickly, and pushed his foot down on the accelerator speeding up. The man continued to look forward, not noticing how much speed we were gathering, when suddenly Dean slammed on the breaks and the man, with you held tightly in his arms, flew forward, his head hitting the dashboard with a crunch, you crumpling across the bench seat. Springing to action, you gripped the handle to the passenger side door with your other hand and yanked it open shoving the man out of the car, while the Impala screamed forward on the wet pavement. You saw the man bounce a few times across the ground before laying still. Dean glanced behind him, and slammed the car into reverse backing up, while drawing his gun.

“Dean!” You screamed, hunched over the bench seat, as he rushed from the car toward where the man had landed roughly, leaving his door open wide. You lifted your head slowly, looking around for him anxiously, before Dean returned seconds later, anger lacing his voice. “Fucker’s gone.” He stated, staring forward, his hands gripping the steering wheel hard. You were finding it hard to breath as you sat back against the back seat, wiping angrily at tears and the blood on your face. Dean glanced at you before putting Baby in drive and rushing her forward away from where the man had disappeared. You fell asleep cuddling Dean’s flannel to you, sobs racking your body.

A few hours later, Dean stopped at a motel about an hour from Houston, pulling the car into the parking lot. You had stopped crying, and fell into a restless sleep, dreaming of the strangers hands at your neck, but when you heard the engine die, you shot up out of the seat, and Dean was out of the car in a second, helping you out. He opened the motel room door, and ushered you in, his hand lightly on your back. You didn’t care what you were doing here, just laid yourself on the bed, curling into a ball. Dean muttered something about calling Sam and went outside, closing the door behind him with a click. In the silence, your mind drifted to the calm demeanor of the man as he held you roughly. You had fought countless monsters, and had never felt the fear you did in that moment, with a normal person attacking you for seemingly no reason. It was as if everything else in the world became meaningless in the hours after escaping the man. _You and the Winchesters could kill as many monsters as you wanted, but what did it matter when the people you were trying to save slowly became the monsters?_

The thought brought on fresh tears and when Dean came back into the room, letting you know that Sam was on his way and we had a few hours to rest, you were sobbing uncontrollably, your face buried in the comforter. Dean crawled silently into the bed and pulled you into his arms, soothing you gently as you cried, hands clutching desperately to his shirt.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this fic consider supporting my writing through ko-fi! https://ko-fi.com/hstevens5
> 
> I also have multiple SPN stickers on my Redbubble site (hstevens5)
> 
> Thank you for reading and for your support 😊


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